Praise for Denise Hunter
“Denise Hunter’s newest novel, Sweetbriar Cottage, is a story to fall in love with. True-to-life characters, high stakes, and powerful chemistry blend to tell an emotional story of reconciliation. Readers will sympathize with Josephine’s tragic past and root for her happy ending as old wounds give way to new beginnings.”
—BRENDA NOVAK, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR
“Sweetbriar Cottage is a wonderful story, full of emotional tension and evocative prose. You’ll feel involved in these characters’ lives and carried along by their story as tension ratchets up to a climactic and satisfying conclusion. Terrific read. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
—FRANCINE RIVERS, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING
AUTHOR OF REDEEMING LOVE
“From start to finish, Sweetbriar Cottage is a winner! Heartache, intrigue, and complex character issues all wrapped in Denise Hunter’s signature style of romance make this a must-read for lovers of this genre.”
—TAMERA ALEXANDER, USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF TO
WHISPER HER NAME AND THE INHERITANCE
“Warning: sleep deprivation, palpitations, and acute soul-searching may occur . . . and you will devour every single moment! A powerful novel of second chances, Sweetbriar Cottage is a haunting love story that will take you from the depths of divorce to the breathless heights of a marriage transformed.”
—JULIE LESSMAN, AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF THE
DAUGHTERS OF BOSTON, WINDS OF CHANGE,
AND ISLE OF HOPE SERIES
“Hunter has a wonderful way of sweeping readers into a delightful romance without leaving behind the complications of true love and true life. Sweetbriar Cottage is Hunter at the top of her game—a rich, emotional romance that will leave readers yearning for more.”
—KATHERINE REAY, AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR OF
DEAR MR . KNIGHTLEY AND A PORTRAIT OF EMILY PRICE
“With cameos of favorite characters from previous novels set in rural Summer Harbor, Maine, Hunter delivers what her audience expects: sweet romance and intriguing mystery involving seriously likeable characters.”
—PUBLISHERS WEEKLY ON THE GOODBYE BRIDE
“I’ve been a longtime fan of Denise Hunter’s, and The Goodbye Bride has everything I’ve come to love about her romances: a plucky heroine with lots of backstory, a yummy hero, and a terrific setting. Her fine attention to detail and the emotional punch of the story made me want to reread it immediately. Highly recommended!”
—COLLEEN COBLE, USA TODAY BESTSELLING
AUTHOR OF MERMAID MOON AND THE HOPE BEACH SERIES
“With her usual deft touch, snappy dialogue, and knack for romantic tension, inspirational romance veteran Hunter will continue to delight romance fans with this first Summer Harbor release.”
—PUBLISHERS WEEKLY ON FALLING LIKE SNOWFLAKES
“Hunter is a master romance storyteller. Falling Like Snowflakes is charming and fun with a twist of mystery and intrigue. A story that’s sure to endure as a classic reader favorite.”
—RACHEL HAUCK, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING
AUTHOR OF THE WEDDING DRESS
“Skillfully combines elements of romance, family stories, and kitchen disasters. Fans of Colleen Coble and Robin Lee Hatcher will enjoy this winter-themed novel.”
—LIBRARY JOURNAL ON THE WISHING SEASON
“This is an emotional tale of overcoming the fear of loss to love again and God’s love, made manifest through people, healing all wounds.”
—RT BOOK REVIEWS, 4 STARS ON DANCING WITH FIREFLIES
“Jane Austen fans will appreciate the subtle yet delightful Austen vibe that flavors this contemporary cowboy romance. The Trouble with Cowboys is a fast, fun, and touching read with the added draw of a first kiss that is sure to make my Top 5 Fictional Kisses of 2012. So saddle up, ladies: We have a winner!”
—USATODAY.COM
Other Novels by Denise Hunter
Sweetbriar Cottage
BLUE RIDGE NOVELS
Blue Ridge Sunrise
On Magnolia Lane (available November 2018)
SUMMER HARBOR NOVELS
Falling Like Snowflakes
The Goodbye Bride
Just a Kiss
THE CHAPEL SPRINGS ROMANCE SERIES
Barefoot Summer
A December Bride (novella)
Dancing with Fireflies
The Wishing Season
Married ’til Monday
THE BIG SKY ROMANCE SERIES
A Cowboy’s Touch
The Accidental Bride
The Trouble with Cowboys
NANTUCKET LOVE STORIES
Surrender Bay
The Convenient Groom
Seaside Letters
Driftwood Lane
Sweetwater Gap
Novellas included in Smitten, Secretly Smitten, and Smitten Book Club
Honeysuckle Dreams
© 2018 by Denise Hunter
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.
Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please email [email protected].
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Hunter, Denise, 1968- author.
Title: Honeysuckle dreams / Denise Hunter.
Description: Nashville, Tennessee : Thomas Nelson, [2018] | Series: A Blue Ridge romance ; 2
Epub Edition March 2018 9780718090531
Identifiers: LCCN 2017051528 | ISBN 9780718090524 (paperback) Subjects: LCSH: Domestic fiction. | GSAFD: Christian fiction. | Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3608.U5925 H66 2018 | DDC 813/.6--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017051528
Printed in the United States of America
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Contents
Praise for Denise Hunter
Other Novels by Denise Hunter
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
Acknowledgments
About the Author
chapter one
Playing house was just a little too easy for Hope Daniels. Her special chicken casserole waited in the oven, covered with foil; butter beans were simmering on the stovetop; and the yeasty smell of baked rolls hung in the air. Over by the living room window, six-month-old Sam cooed happily from his Pack’n Play.
She walked over to him, smiling, as her friend’s baby kicked happily on his back, making the monkeys on his mobile dance.
“Whatcha doing, sugar? Oh, you’re so cute. Yes, you are. Yes, you are! Your daddy sure hit the jackpot with you.”
Sam gave a toothless grin, his pudgy cheeks bunching up, his blue eyes sparkling, and she couldn’t resist a second longer. She scooped him up and buried her nose in his fresh, clean baby smell.
“Where’s that daddy of yours, huh? He’s just so late! He’s a hard worker, isn’t he? Oh, yes, he is!”
She treated Sammy to a session of rapid-fire neck kisses until he was belly-laughing. Oh, this baby! Brady had offered over and again to pay her for watching the little darling, but she’d be darned if he shouldn’t be charging her.
A text dinged in.
Sorry! Customer running late. Be in soon.
She one-handed a text, assuring him all was well, and pocketed her phone. “Daddy’ll be home soon for some snuggles, won’t he, little Sam.”
“Ma, ma, ma!”
Hope’s smile drooped a little as she pressed a kiss to Sammy’s forehead. It was just babbling, she knew. Probably meaningless. But the idea that he might be missing his mama made her chest ache.
Audrey, Brady’s ex-wife, had passed suddenly in a car accident just shy of four weeks ago. Hope—and most of Copper Creek—had no love lost for the woman. Audrey hadn’t been a very kind soul, but by all appearances she’d been a decent mother.
Now Brady was juggling full-time fatherhood along with his booming auto repair business, which he ran out of his old barn.
Hope was happy to watch Sam when she wasn’t filling a shift at WKPC in Atlanta. Other ladies about town had pitched in too, for a morning or an afternoon. But that couldn’t go on indefinitely. Brady really needed to find full-time care for the little guy. Sammy needed stability. Routine.
The baby tugged on her ear, fondling it for comfort the way he did sometimes.
“Where’s Boo Bear, huh? Where’s your little lovey?” Hope wandered back over to the crib and bent for the blue stuffed bear that wore a fraying woven hat.
“Here he is.”
Sam clutched Boo Bear, and Hope settled in Brady’s recliner, a comfy leather thing that all but swallowed her up. She set Sam on her lap, supporting his weight with her crossed leg—he wasn’t quite sitting up by himself.
She played pat-a-cake with him, chuckling when he did. She couldn’t help it. He had the most infectious laugh. “Wheels on the Bus” was next. He liked the swish, swish, swish and the beep, beep, beep parts best, so she did those twice.
“Oh, you are just such a happy guy, aren’t you?” He was faring much better the past couple of days. She smoothed down his freshly shampooed hair. It was light and fine and baby soft. His skin like a rose petal.
He stared at her with wide, blue eyes that melted her heart. Then he felt for his pacifier, hanging from a ribbon attached to his sleeper, and plopped it into his mouth.
“Getting sleepy, little guy?” It was only eight o’clock, but he’d awakened early from his afternoon nap, and she knew he hadn’t been sleeping well at night. All she had to do was look into his daddy’s tired eyes.
Sam laid his head on Hope’s shoulder, setting his chubby little hand over her heart. Her womb gave a heavy sigh. Oh yeah, this was just a little too easy.
Brady Collins closed up his barn as Mr. Lewis started his candy-apple red Ferrari 488 GTB. The businessman regularly put the twin-turbo engine to the test at the track in Dawsonville, and the engine had been in need of general maintenance.
Brady gave the man a wave as the car turned down the gravel drive, letting his ears fill with the hum of a perfectly tuned engine. Music to his ears.
He snapped the padlock and started toward his house, checking his watch. Shoot. He felt bad running late like this. Hated taking advantage of a good friend, being dependent on Hope and everyone else. He had to find a nanny or something.
It had been a month now. He should be doing better than this. Single moms did it all the time and made it look easy as pie. But when he was at work he felt guilty he wasn’t with Sam, guilty he was putting out one of his neighbors. And when he was at home he worried about shirking his job. He’d worked long and hard to build a reputation with the local sports car enthusiasts. He didn’t want to blow it now.
But his heart broke for his son. Sammy had regressed when Audrey died. He’d been fussy and restless the first couple weeks and was no longer sleeping through the night. The pediatrician had assured him nothing was physically wrong. It was just so hard to watch his boy go through this and feel so helpless to comfort him.
Brady reached the walk that led to his two-story farmhouse. The sun was only now sinking behind the north Georgia mountains, offering a reprieve from the sweltering June heat. He swiped his palm across his forehead, probably greasing himself up good. He needed a shower and food, but that would have to wait till Sammy was down for the night.
His pace picked up at the thought of his boy. Hard as this full-time father gig was, it was his son he longed for at the end of a busy day.
The kitchen light was on, shining through the window over the sink, beckoning. He liked it best when Hope tended to the baby. Not only did she come to the house, making it much easier on him, but she clearly enjoyed taking care of Sammy.
Brady opened the back door and pulled off his boots. Heavenly smells wafted his way, making his stomach growl. Something savory, a hint of garlic and yeast. Whatever it was, it was sure to beat the Hot Pocket he’d been fixing to zap in the microwave.
“Hope?” He padded across the kitchen, the wood floor squeaking in predictable spots. He stopped on the threshold of the living room and took in the sight.
Hope was curled in his recliner, sleeping. Sam was out like a light, his little hand holding a fistful of Hope’s dark locks. The lamplight cast a golden glow over them, and heaven’s bells if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d seen in months.
Hope’s hand rested on the baby’s back protectively, and her long eyelashes swept over the tops of her cheeks. Sam was tucked under her chin, his mouth slightly parted, the pacifier dangling precariously.
Brady approached quietly, not wanting to give her a fright. “Hope?”
The floor squeaked again, this time louder, and her eyes opened. They darted around before lighting on him, awareness settling in her green eyes.
“I fell asleep,” she said quietly. “What time is it?”
“Eight thirty. Sorry I’m so late.”
“You’re fine.” She shifted, glancing down at Sam. “I should wake him, or he’ll be up in the night.”
“Let’s not. He didn’t sleep well last night. Probably needs the extra z’s.”
Brady reached for Sam, and his heart skipped a beat as the back of his hand grazed her inappropriately. “Sorry.” He shifted his hands, his face heating, but there wasn’t a better way to pick up the baby.
She gave an awkward laugh as she lifted Sammy, placing him in Brady’s arms. Color bloomed in her cheeks, but her gaze was fixed on the sleeping baby.
Sam’s eyes remained closed, but he’d latched onto his pacifier and was sucking away as Brady tucked him against his body.
“Thanks again for watching him.”
“Trust me, it’s my pleasure. He ate at seven thirty. And your dinner’s in the oven.”
“You didn’t have to do that, H
ope.”
Her eyes sparkled as she stood. “But aren’t you glad I did?”
“You have no idea.”
She leaned close, brushing a knuckle over Sammy’s cheek, gazing adoringly at the baby. “Bye, little guy.”
She pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead, coming close enough for Brady to notice the golden flecks in her green eyes, the feminine scent of her.
She stepped away and started gathering her purse and some work she’d brought along, her dark-brown hair spilling over her shoulder. “Same time tomorrow?”
He gave a pained look. “I hate to ask two days in a row.”
“Then don’t.” Hope smiled saucily and waved over her shoulder as she left.
Brady took Sam upstairs and held him for an extra minute before setting a kiss on his forehead and laying him in his crib.
His stomach gave a sharp growl, making him decide on supper before shower. He headed back downstairs, made sure the baby monitor was on, and dug into the casserole. He moaned aloud at the juicy chunks of chicken, smothered in gravy and topped with something crispy.
He ate until he was uncomfortably full and was just rinsing his plate when a knock sounded at the front door. He dried his hands on a towel and went to answer it.
His eyes widened at the sight of the woman on his front porch. “Heather.”
His former sister-in-law couldn’t look any more different from Audrey, with her mousy brown hair and petite frame.
She had a warm smile, though, and she employed it now. “Hi, Brady.” Her eyes flickered over his dirty coveralls, and her face fell a little. “Sorry, I should’ve called.”
“Not at all.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in. It’s good to see you.” He’d seen her at Audrey’s funeral, of course, but that had been a strained event, everyone still in shock, little time to talk.
“Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee?”
“Decaf?”
“Coming right up.” He slipped into the kitchen, and Heather followed. “Jeff’s not with you?”
“He’s home with the kids. Where’s Sammy?”
Shoot. That was probably why she’d come. “I just put him down, but I can get him up—”
“No, no. Don’t wake him. Maybe I can just peek in on him?”
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